Not A Bang, But A Whisper
by it's a placeholder
Summary: Opposites attract not because of who they are, but because they always have something the other needs.


**ed sheeran is an enabler for all abby/townsend feels, i ship these two so hard i cry over them every night before i go to sleep, and tbh i don't even know what this is. also what even is that summary. **

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Abby naturally has sunny disposition.

It's just something that's always come easy to her; being happy and smiling aren't that hard, especially when you know how to fake them properly. She's also horribly sarcastic, has a tendency to run her mouth and has a horrible anger management problem. Of course, she's able to hide the latter much easier than the other two, and usually more often than not, takes out her frustrations on the dummies in the gym, or on the various human-shaped targets in the shooting range. Letting off steam through emptying a case of bullets is strangely cathartic for her – she tries not to look into that one too much.

But here's the thing; Abby's good at letting people see what they want, and usually what they're seeing isn't the real thing at all. In fact it's the furthest thing from the real her – if she even really remembers who that is anymore. Because here's the thing with being a spy – you need legends, you build stories about people who you're pretending to be, making up little idiosyncrasies that match up with the persona and sometimes, if you're not careful the lines start to blur between what's just a cover, and who you actually are.

Abby's been in the business a long time, she's had hundreds of legends, some she barley remembers, and others she can slip into as easy as being in her own skin. And it scares her sometimes how easy that is, falling back into someone that's not you but actually is you at the same time. It's like having an entire set of different personas hiding inside of her, and sometimes the real one gets lost amongst the others.

And mostly, it's because she's not particularly good at letting go; she can do it yes, she just_ prefers_ not to sometimes. And in some instances, it's nice to have someone to fall back on when she doesn't want to be herself anymore, when the blood under her skin feels to close to the surface and there an itch at the base of her spine that travels and swirls its way across her body and plants itself in her bones.

Edward on the other hand, well – he's a different case all by himself.

He's a bit _too_ good at letting go, at keeping that distance that allows him to separate himself from the people he sometimes pretends to be. Maybe it has something to do with the way he was raised – a mother who was never there, and a father who was gone long before he needed him in the first place. Phantom bruises on a playgroup, and ghosts of taunting whispers laced with juvenile hatred – they're always at the back of his mind, but he's a stronger person today because of his past. He wouldn't change it even if he was given the chance; everything happens for a reason, and what happened then lead him to his life now, and he wouldn't trade that for the world.

And maybe that's why he doesn't get lost inside of his mind like she does sometimes – because he's so grounded in who he is, has known who he was and who he was meant to be for as long as he can remember. A completely different tone to Abby who's been trying to find herself for as long as _she_ can remember – always trying to be the best but just coming up empty, a sister who always shined just that little bit brighter than her, a shadow since she was a born.

A child desperately searching for the attention she never got – always trying to smile brighter, laugh louder be _more_ than her perfect older sister, but always coming up short.

It's why they work so well together – because they're just what each other needs.

He needs someone to teach him how to loose himself in the moment, to remember that he doesn't always need to be in control of every single detail – and she needs someone to remind her when enough is enough. To take a moment to pause and come back to herself before she reaches out and crosses the deep end where usually, there's no return.

It's not like they're soulmates, or that they're entangled in some kind of deep passionate love, no, it's not like that. But it's the kind of love that comes from knowing someone just as well as you know yourself, that comes with time and familiarity and most importantly trust. It's the kind of love that's a slow burn rather than a raging fire – the type that starts at the tip of your toes and spreads its way through your entire body, rests in the pit of your stomach, curls around tight right underneath your ribs and makes a home in the deepest parts of your soul.

It steals your breath away and makes your heart _hurt_ and rests a hand just between the nape of your neck and shoulders when you're scared and tells you 'it'll be okay'.

It's never just been something physical between them – _it's always been more than that_.

It's a love that builds itself up over years and years before quietly falling into place – and even though they don't always acknowledge it, even though they fight and push and kick until it hurts because sometimes it's easier to run away, even though this – this _thing_ between them scares them more than anything else in the world, they know that it's still there between them, a gentle flame that burns soft and warm and whispers to them_ this is home_.

She shows him how to laugh again, and he reminds her that she can't be carefree with everything, and together, they both learn to live again.

**end.**


End file.
